


fake

by Anonymous



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: But its not cutting, Format: Streaming, I promise, Internalized Homophobia, Mental Breakdown, Self-Harm, Slurs, Surprise! - Freeform, but i mlm so its okay!, oneshot BUT i might expand on it if this pops off, only mature because i overuse slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:00:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29370432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: george is a different person when he doesn't think the camera is on him.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6
Collections: Anonymous





	fake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the mentally unstable gays](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=the+mentally+unstable+gays).



“Bye guys! I hope you enjoyed it, I’ll see you all later!” George waves and smiles happily at his stream. 

He clicks and his face drops. 

He sighs loudly, the overwhelming sadness and anger flooding him the second he leaves the call.

He hates when he gets like this.

“God fucking damn it,” He runs his hand through hair and hits his desk. 

His hand hurts from the blow but he doesn’t dwell on it. He still feels angry, getting more upset by the second.

“Fuck!” He hits his desk again, exhaustion filling his body. 

The stream went on for way too long, he was struggling to maintain his ‘usual’ happy composure by the end of it and now it was all spilling over. 

He was no longer angry, just tired, exhausted even. 

He blinks a few times, adjusting to the newly recognized pain in his hand.

His eyes felt so dry, so so so dry. 

God what was wrong with him? He was so stupid. So so so so stupid. Just an idiot. An idiot loser who didn’t know how to properly handle his feelings.

He felt a subtle stinging claw itself through the back of his eyes, making its way to the front easily as the words repeat in his head.

He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t going to cry.

He was crying.

“God damn it!” He shouts louder, rubbing angrily at his eyes. 

If the tears didn’t fall then he wasn’t actually crying. 

He rubs harder, more angry. He was still sad but now he was just angry that he was sad. 

Feelings are confusing. 

He hits his thigh, working himself up more than needed. 

He hits his thigh harder, again and again and again. He is still crying, more from anger now, but he’s no longer rubbing at his eyes he’s letting the tears fall freely. 

“Stupid,” He mumbles, shuffling to his bedside table to drink water. 

He pulls the huge cup up and drinks from the straw, he’s no longer crying. 

He remembers the one post talking about how if a child is crying to make them drink water so they’ll stop and how that’s what he just did and he starts laughing. Choking on his water and cackling, he really is a child! A little baby, having to drink water to get himself to stop crying! He’s so stupid! 

He starts crying again. 

He really was stupid. 

“I’m so stupid.” He states outloud, hoping that it would help him stop. 

It doesn’t.

“Very stupid.”

That doesn’t help either. 

He feels weak. 

Of course he felt weak, he was. He was a weak little stupid girly faggot boy. 

He runs his hands through his hair, suddenly realizing he is still standing. 

He sits down on his bed, pulling his hair now. 

“Faggot.” His body thrums, from adrenaline or anxiety he doesn't know. 

“Stupid. Weak. Faggy dumbass.” He pulls his hair harder.

He wants to cry more. 

“Crybaby. Freak. Whore. Twat.” The insults fall easily from his tongue. 

He hates himself so much. 

“Crazy. Barcode. Fag.” He hates the way fag rolls off his tongue but he likes the way it stops him from crying. 

He scratches his arm hard. 

“Fag. Fucking fag. Stupid fucking fairy. Dumb bitch.” 

He scratches harder. 

The tears stay dormant. 

“Flamer. Stupid fucking faggot. Fucking cocknocker!” His words get louder as his scratches get harder. 

“Flit! You fucking fruity asshole! You goddamn pansy!” he’s yelling at himself, scratching hard enough to draw blood. 

“You stupid bent botty boy!” The slurs come easy, he knows pretty much all of them from primary school. 

He can feel himself getting red, his face heating up in anger and his body shaking. 

“Jus’ a crybaby limp wristed fag,” He mumbles, holding his face in his hands. 

He’s still shaking, worse then he ever has before when he’s had a breakdown. 

His phone starts ringing, he doesn’t want to answer it. 

He ignores it, continuing to shake uncontrollably. 

His phone stops ringing only to start again immediately. 

He sighs loudly and goes to pick it up. He sees ‘Clay :]’ at the top of the screen and starts smiling a bit. 

Faggot.

“Hullo?” His voice is definitely shaking. 

“George,” The voice is quiet and soft.

“Yeah?” 

“Are you okay.”

George’s face and brain blank. “What do you mean why wouldn’t I be?” His thigh aches where he’d hit it. 

“George,” Dream begins again “You’re still streaming.”


End file.
